


Illusory

by octopuppy



Series: Soulbound [2]
Category: The Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Termina (Legend of Zelda), Time Travel, young Link - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2020-12-28 21:33:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21143552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/octopuppy/pseuds/octopuppy
Summary: Link finishes his work in Termina, but things are not as he recalls. The mask with mysterious power warped either the landscape or his perception of it; Link isn't sure which is more disturbing.





	1. Chapter 1

The mask fell to his feet with a dull clatter. Its yellow eyes stared up at the warrior, but he felt no more threatening aura from it. His shoulders slumped in relief, his muscles sore from the strenuous battle. The warrior took hold of his own painted face and pulled, leaving behind a small boy in his wake. 

Link’s legs shook and he fell to his knees in the soft soil that had replaced the disgusting, muscular chamber he had just been in. He was on the moon’s surface again, and fluffy grass tickled his skin, but the spell was fading quickly; the grass turned brown and the tree in front of him was shedding its leaves like rainfall. 

He forced himself to his feet and, again, his surroundings shifted. Now, he was on top of the clock tower; he caught a glimpse of the last giant stepping over the mountains in the distance before there was a great flash of light. Blind, he felt like he was falling, and then, he was gently placed on his feet in the center of the town square. He looked up at the sky. It was a bright and clear day with no grimacing moon in sight. 

Relief flooded his body and his knees gave out once again. Exhausted, he kneeled in the middle of town square for just a moment before a kindly construction worker stopped beside him. He set down the massive board he was carrying and placed a large hand on the center of Link’s back. 

“You ok, kid?”

Link jumped at the unexpected contact and whirled around to face the man, stumbling from the effort, eyes wild. His panic faded when he saw the concerned look on the worker’s face. 

“Fine. Sorry. Just felt sick,” he forced out, palms slick with nervous sweat. 

The look on his face showed he knew Link was lying but he also knew he had no place to press a random child for information. 

“Get home and get some rest, kid. You don’t look so good.”

With a final, gentle clap on his back, the worker stood back up and lifted his board, expression still bothered. Link’s throat felt oddly tight at the display of human connection; he’d met and remet so many people over the course of his adventure that he didn’t know what was real anymore. That concern he received from a stranger was. He looked down at his hands. They were real, too. Everything else seemed to be up for debate. 

He got back to his feet, legs wobbling. What could he count on? Realization hit him hard. Epona. Where was she? He’d found her at the ranch before. Since time had been turned back yet again, maybe she was still there. He took a few unsteady steps before he was able to level himself, heading towards the town’s forest gate. The guard stopped him, as usual, but before he could say anything, Link just drew his sword about an inch from its sheath.

“Oh, excuse me, sir. I didn’t realize you had a sword. You may pass.”

Link gave him a small nod and was allowed by. Upon reaching Termina field, he was surprised to find that there were no chus or guay patrolling; in fact, the area looked just slightly different. The plants seemed different. The flowers were in different places and were different varieties than what he remembered seeing. Even the trees seemed off. That is, in retrospect, the trees _were_ off. Now, they seemed familiar; they reminded him of the forest he came from. He'd thought that the foliage had changed with the landscape, but he was disturbed to find that they had been warped by the mask. Wait. Had they been warped by the mask, or had his perception been? The thought was unsettling.

He'd only traveled about an hour before he reached the gate to the ranch. The grounds were serene and a cool breeze rustled the tall grass and scattered wildflowers. Link could see the house on the horizon, and a spot of roan coat in a pen beside it. Epona. He took off running and made it to her within a few minutes, heart pounding and breath short in his chest. He came to a screeching halt when he realized there was someone nearby. 

She was small, about his age, with coarse dark hair, long ears, and olive skin. Her honey brown eyes were large and focused on him, but she didn’t seem frightened, just interested. 

“Hello,” he tested, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. “Uh, this is my horse.”

“Oh, hello! She found her way onto the ranch alone. You really should take better care of her.” The girl’s tone was not accusing, just matter of fact.

“She was stolen.”

Link put his hand through the grate of the pen and Epona nuzzled it happily. 

“Oh. Well, then I’m glad we found her and not those Ingo brothers,” a beaming smile and an outstretched hand.  
“I’m Romani, by the way.”

Link just stared for a moment. He’d met Romani. It was strange that she’d looked uncannily similar to someone he’d met before, but he never thought anything of it beyond that. This Romani, however, was a completely different person. He took her hand and shook it once. Solid. Warm. She seemed real. But then again, the first Romani he had met did too.

“Romani? Are you out here?”

A voice called out from the house and a beautiful woman stepped out from the threshold. She looked just like Romani, but older; her hair was longer and more voluminous as well. 

“That’s my sister Cremia,” Romani told him, then yelled, “yeah I’m here!”

“Supper is ready,” Cremia called as she went back through the door. 

Romani pouted slightly, crossing her arms. 

“I don’t have time for supper, I’m training.”

The hair on the back of Link’s neck stood up. 

“Training for what?”

“Every year on the night before the carnival they come from a red star and take our cows. Sometimes it’s just one, sometimes it’s the whole stock. That’s tomorrow. I’m not gonna just sit back anymore.”

Romani opened the pen for him and he got on Epona, hesitating. 

“Don’t go into the barn.”

“What?”

“Stand on top of that crate so you can see better. Look around at all angles. Don’t let them come up behind you. And… listen to your dog.”

Advice tumbled out of Link’s mouth fast and she just cocked her head at him. 

“You’re a strange one, grasshopper.”

“Yeah,” Link agreed. He watched as she drew an arrow and fired at the balloon and she hit it, beaming, but her aim was unsteady; she was clearly self taught. 

He couldn’t leave knowing what he did. This was more than a child’s story: he had seen them. The many times he rewound time to find another piece of the puzzle he tried to make it back to the ranch on his second night; there was only once where he didn’t show up. The next day Romani was irreparably changed. Her eyes were dull, her sentences broken; she would be quiet for long periods of time, looking straight ahead. He couldn’t allow that to happen again, and certainly not in the permanent timeline. He paused before asking,

“Can I see them?”

“Sure, just come back tomorrow night. They’ll be here.”

She wasn’t looking at him anymore, but up at the sky. There was a single red star that stood out from the rest, and it seemed to be getting bigger.


	2. Chapter 2

Link returned to Clock Town for the night, thoroughly exhausted. He planned on sleeping off of the road on the way back to Hyrule, but he couldn’t leave Romani by herself. He made it all the way to the Stock Pot Inn in East Clock Town before he realized he had no money. He’d been sent back in time after his final battle with Majora and lost it all. 

“I’m sorry, we have no more available rooms,” Anju said sympathetically.

Not that it would have mattered.

Link just nodded, then paused.

“Can I rest on the bench for a while?”

She looked at him with the most heartbreakingly sad expression and he was immediately uncomfortable.

“Of course.” She hurried into the hallway behind the counter and Link just waited where he stood, not wanting to be rude. He heard a door open and shut, then open and shut again. She returned with a very nice, obviously homemade quilt in her arms. She handed it to him with a smile, but it was full of pity.

To be fair, he did seem like a helpless orphan without anywhere to go. And to be fair, that wasn’t so far off. He took the quilt and curled up on the bench, uncomfortable, but at least somewhere safe. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt safe. His eyelids were so heavy and he finally let them fall closed. 

He awoke promptly at 8 o’clock as the other desk worker arrived at her post. The sound of rustling paper stirred him and as he opened his eyes he noticed her glaring. Awkward. A homeless child sleeping on the bench in your entryway wasn’t exactly great for business. Then again, the rooms were full, so she could shove it. Still, she was attempting to wake him with the sound of her rustling, he was sure of it; he finally gave her what she wanted and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

“Young man, stay here any longer and we’ll have to charge you for the night.”

So she did speak. He cracked one eye open and stared at her, but did not reply. He got to his feet, taking his time folding the quilt and placing it gently in the center of the bench.

“Please tell Miss Anju that I said thank you.”

Her nostrils flared with contempt but she held her tongue as he exited through the main door. Tonight was the night. More and more decorations and people were flooding the streets; already he could see his efforts rewarded. When the moon was falling, the whole area was a ghost town. He smiled to himself, but it faded quickly.

He took his time making his way to the ranch and tried not to think of what had (almost? never?) happened during the last few hours before the carnival. The moon lurched and the ground shook and he saw grown men weep on the ground powerless before their own mortality. He knew he was the only one who could stop it, and he had to. He was compelled, whether it be from the triforce piece within him or his own moral compass, to help those who didn’t have the power to divert their own fate. Link’s fate was one of two: the death of himself and everyone else or victory against ultimate evil. Those were odds he could never get used to.

When he reached the ranch on Epona it was still before noon. He looked up at the bright sky, mouth pursed as he thought. He could play the Song of Double Time and have it be nighttime in mere moments. Then again, he was not necessarily looking forward to the events of tonight. He hated those creatures; the sounds that accompanied them chilled him to the bone. Their ship emitted a high pitched whine that he felt in his teeth as he fired arrows into monster after monster. They disappeared upon contact and when the morning light came as if made of mist yet could snatch entire cows and small girls without effort if allowed to. He had no explanation for them and, honestly, it hardly mattered what they were as long as they were destroyed and their targets kept safe.

He stopped in a patch of tall grass and sweet clover, getting off Epona and leaving her to graze. She snorted happily as he pat her neck, giving a small smile before it dropped off his face. 

He had collected 60 arrows beforehand, the extra large quiver entirely full. He’d never run out before, even when he could only hold 30, but he would hardly take the chance. He planned on teaching Romani how to use a bow tonight, and the best strategy for fending off the beasts the night before the carnival. He wouldn’t be here next year, but he could teach her proper techniques so he wouldn’t have to be. He sucked in a nervous breath. He hoped so, anyway. Otherwise….

No. He couldn’t think about it. Those blank eyes that stared straight ahead still stayed fresh in his memory. He couldn’t let that happen again. He could teach her how to protect herself. That’s the best thing a hero could do; teach others how not to need him.


End file.
